Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Up or Out

Nine months is a long time. Enough time to bring forth a child. Or, in this case, grow one through kindergarten. They were busy months, sometimes bleak with heartache and frustration, sometimes rich with learning and love. But good ones, overall.

Now there he stands, no longer, as of today, a little kindergartner, but a big, all-grown-up First Grader.

Of course it doesn't just stop here. Tomorrow is a daycare day, there will (hopefully) be some summer camps, and time to play, and then, of course, First Grade come the autumn. But today is the day to just kick back and enjoy the feeling of having summited the first of a lifetime of academic challenges, of having completed the first stage of the journey from childhood to adolescence.

Of learning how to color inside the lines, write your "R"s frontwards and trudge slowly towards less creative spelling. Learning these things moves us towards a greated role in the world around us, while at the same time our lives get a little less...uncomplicated.

But that's the price we all pay, every day we live - every choice we make cuts off the other choices unmade; every path we take leaves untrod the paths behind, unexplored, forever dim with the dusk of unanswered questions.

From my spot well down those paths the Peeper's vista looks broad and bright; from his, I'll bet it seems more than a little overwhelming, confused and imposing. The "freedom" of childhood never seems so free when you're a child, I recall.But none of that matters today. Today the only righteous thing to say is: Congratulations, Big Peeper. You done good. Take a break in place and smoke 'em if you got 'em.

I got to say, the lad looks a wee bit pensive in the bottom pic...is it because he's about to enter the gates of "Surrender all hope ye who enter here!" or is it the look that says, "geez dad, enough with the camera already!" Of which I have to say my wife and I have a running record of our boys first day of school...each...and...every...year...and they seem to have the same look as yours in a few of them.

I remember, too! I felt a stranger in a strange land, and knew that my coloring and tromping about and wonderment had nothing to do with their world.

When did the synthesis occur? Perhaps it never did!

I also remember being easily mortified (me, being a shy kid), and all the adult "jokes" and things they do and say with kids seemed a bit silly. My mother always told me that kids were naught but smaller adults, and I somehow actually believed her.

So, I've just grown bigger, but I'm afraid I'm still rather childlike.